Tough love

'What you do every day matters more than what you do every once in a while'. I read this quote somewhere and it made me think of my first 'serious' relationship. 

I was 18 and my boyfriend was 33 years old (yeah, not that uncommon in the gay world), and if there was one thing that was always present in our relationship, it was my constant feeling of sadness. I remember coming home feeling like crap after our 'dates', or just feeling plain scared to express my opinions. The worst thing, probably, is that he didn't hit me or call me names! Why is that the worst thing, you ask? Well, because I could not make out what it was that made me feel so bad! 

When people asked me about my relationship, I usually talked about the more obvious, 'good' things. "Ah, we went out for dinner", "we watched a movie at his place", "he got me a rose, isn't that romantic?". The problem was, though, that these gestures, while very real, happened mostly after we had a serious fight. I never talked about the things we did every day. Looking back, now I think I can understand what made that relationship so unpleasant.

He sometimes ignored my calls on purpose, knowing it drove me crazy and even admitting to doing so ("sometimes I don't want to talk to you"); and he constantly criticized my behavior in a hurtful, demeaning way ("you don't eat eggs? Of course, your mother spoiled you too much. Maybe one day you'll grow up").

My point is, those things were like little drops of water falling constantly on the same spot. One little drop will do little to no harm, but if continued indefinitely, it won't take too long before it starts leaving a mark.

Very often, our society teaches us that aggression or violence is an acceptable substitute for vulnerability and intimacy, two concepts which are rarely discussed or promoted. In a way, it's a shame that our society not only accepts this kind of violence, but even encourages it. Have you ever met a couple who give each other demeaning or insulting nicknames in a 'playful' way? Couples who are rude or offensive to each other because 'they know they're just playing'? And if the offended party says anything there comes the answer "oh, come on, don't be so sensitive", which transfers the fault to them and the aggressor comes off as being 'carefree and playful'.

The core of this, I believe, is that people who are not used to feeling vulnerable will immediately lash out in order to hide their fear. People who get angry at the 'idiot who cut in front of them' and yell at their kids, simply because they are the nearest available target. Mind you, it's not like they think "oh, I need someone to bully now, since I cannot take revenge on my aggressor", it is just something they have been doing for such a long time that it has become a reflex.

A relationship is built every day and every moment that the people involved are interacting. Think of it as bricks building a wall. Perhaps every so often you would put a nice decoration on the wall, something shiny and impressive; and while they should be enjoyed and cherished, they in no way substitute the basis of what you're building. If all the bricks on your house are cracked, soon not even the fanciest decorations will make your house be worth living in.

As an example, instead of being sarcastic, try to give someone an actual compliment every day. You will see how great you feel and how quickly you stop feeling 'silly' by doing it.

Stranded - Part 2

II

            When I turned around, I encountered a rather unusual sight. Maybe not unusual for someone who studies these things, but all my knowledge on this salty wet world was a posteriori. I was suddenly surrounded by a school of whales.

           Now, I don’t know if you have ever seen a whale in real life. It’s not like they have expressive faces (or faces, per se), but I had the slight feeling these were not very happy.

            I made for the surface, hoping I could reach my boat before things got complicated. And that is when my life changed. Again.

            I felt something collide against my right side, leaving me stunted and breathing with a lot of difficulty, especially considering I was getting oxygen from a mask. I had no time to regain my balance or perspective before something else smashed my left side. I felt helpless.

            Worse. I felt vulnerable.

            My eyes were open but I couldn’t see anything. I could no longer tell where the surface was or which direction I was facing, and, frankly, it was no longer my priority. I kept being shoved in different directions, violently pushed by one these creatures and carried by the current another one created as it swam quickly by my side. The world that had been so beautiful just minutes before, had become a swirling madness I could not get out of. I kept my hands on my face, both protecting it and the precious apparatus supplying me with the indispensable gas. All I could do was wish they would not damage the tank on my back. That would mean game over.

I tried to fight it. I tried to escape. I tried to make sense of it. And then I just gave in. I was up against majestic, powerful creatures in their own environment. I did not stand a chance. I relaxed my body and my mind. I kind of had known this trip had an expiration date, and I expected it would end something like this. But I still harbored a small hope that somehow, I could have made it back.

            As I took my hands away from my face and relaxed my legs, letting my body be carried by the flow, I noticed again the beautiful rays of the sun piercing through the surface. My body ached from the assault of the marine monsters. Then I felt another shove. I admired the deep darkness of the seemingly bottomless ocean, wondering what amazing creatures lived down there. Wondering how much I would see as I sank deeper into that darkness. Would my eyes adjust? Or would it be like sinking into a deep sleep? I kept getting turned this way and that as the mighty beasts toyed with me. Until it felt like it didn’t matter anymore.

Read part 1 here: http://awolfamongbears.blogspot.com/2013/03/stranded-part-1.html

Stranded - Part 1

I

            The day my journey took a whole new direction, I was swimming a little deeper than I usually do. I kept wondering how it was that I still had oxygen in the tanks. While it was true that I had no clue as to how much time I had spent drifting in the ocean, it sure felt like over a couple of weeks. Being wet now just felt like the natural state of my body; I had been wearing the same clothes, a red plaid shirt whose color had been gradually fading because of the saltiness of the ocean; a pair of old jeans with empty pockets, save for a now useless headset and a wallet with some ID and a picture.

            There was nothing special about that day, as far as I was concerned. I was looking for some fish that looked edible or at least not too disgusting – not that I could be picky anymore. As I recall, I used to be quite the finicky man, back in my other life. I would not even eat chicken from the bone or anything that looked too much like what it was when it was alive. I wonder what my friends would have thought, seeing me biting the flesh of a half-alive fish to keep myself from starving.

            It had been raining the night before, though of course it was nothing like those storms I used to admire as a child. My little boat would be tossed around riding the waves like a leaf carried by the mischievous winds of fall. You would think I hated the storms now, but that is because you have never been stranded in the middle of the ocean – rain means water. And water is life. It’s one of those ‘ironic’ things in life, being surrounded by the one thing that could keep you alive and yet, being unable to drink it.

            Another big perk of storms is that they make the ocean quite tame the next day. When there is nothing but water as far as the eye can see, it is nice to be able to dive into it to admire the beauty underneath. The sun peeking through the surface, making the fish glitter and shine. The odd creatures of the sea, thankfully more afraid of me than I had been of them, even the occasional whale. In fact, up until that day, I had always thought whales to be more solitary animals, merrily gliding through the current.

            I had never seen a shark, though.

            As I was swimming that day, after catching a banner-fish (I was no marine biologist, so I made up names for the fish as I saw fit), I caught a glimpse of a whale. A rather small one. The sun was still out but I was deep enough that the light had begun to be scarce. The creature started towards me, which was not usual behavior for the whales I had encountered before. I was curious… Too much to react instantly. That was, of course, until I saw its teeth.

            I swam quickly to the side and barely avoided the creature head-butting me; for some reason, it didn’t feel like it was trying to bite me, but rather just crash into me. Either way, I wasn’t about to find out, curiosity kills more than cats. I turned away from the animal I assumed was a shark with the intention of swimming to the surface as fast as I could. But, had it been that easy, I would not have much of a story to tell.

Part 2: http://awolfamongbears.blogspot.com/2013/03/stranded-part-2.html

You can read the prologue here: http://awolfamongbears.blogspot.com/2013/03/stranded-short-story.html

Stranded - A Short Story

Prologue

I always loved the smell of the ocean; a salty fragrance that transported my heart to those days of my childhood where I didn’t have to go to school and I could just enjoy my time with my family. The sea meant I could stay up late sitting on a balcony with my mother, gazing at the sky and listening to the soothing sound of the waves.

         

There was this one time I was having breakfast with my parents by the beach and I saw a dark spot in the sky, far away in the horizon. I had never seen such a disturbance before, it made no sense to me. We were on vacation at the beach! Was it not the one place we went to where everything was perfect?

            “What is that?”, I asked my mom.

            “Oh, that is just a storm”, she said casually and then resumed her chat with my father.

            A storm? It was like reality had slapped me awake. I had never even considered the possibility of having ‘bad weather’ here, in paradise.

            “What is going to happen? Are we gonna be ok?”, I asked. My 5 year-old mind already bursting with chaotic scenarios.

            “You have nothing to worry about”, my mother answered with a gentle smile, “it will even be fun! You’ll see…”

            She was right. I loved watching the storm from the five star hotel we were staying at. We had ice-cream as I stood near the window, amazed at the lighting and thunder hitting the ocean, the palm trees almost giving into the might of the wind, bending as if ready to snap. To me it was just a show.

            I guess one of the most important reasons why I loved the ocean so much is what it stood for, being by the ocean meant I was safe and happy.

            Safe.

            Happy.

            Two concepts I am no longer familiar with.

           Though I doubt it would make any difference, I wish I could somehow remember how long I have been here. How I got here. At the very least, I am grateful I have some memories to keep me going. I have a place to go back to. Even if I never make it back.

Part 1 coming next week.

Fight right. Part 1 : Stay on topic

A: "Why don't you ever ask me what show I want to watch? You never take me into consideration! Like that time when we went to the cinema with our friends and you just assumed I wanted to see that movie! Or that time we went to the restaurant and..."

B: "I do too take you into consideration! Don't I always ask you what you want for dinner? And when we are at the bar, I get the beer you like and..."

"You ALWAYS do that!", says the first person. "Well, you ALWAYS do that other thing", says the second person. Then it just spirals on and on until nobody can really remember what they were fighting about in the first place. The fight veers away from the issue at hand and becomes something bigger for which both parts have very plausible arguments... Neither is right and neither is wrong. You can't generalize because either will always find a counter argument of one time when they did or didn't do something. 

In my opinion, having fights in a relationship is not something to worry about, it's when you don't care anymore that you should be more alert! Disagreements and occasional clashes are to be expected when two human beings who can hardly understand themselves try to understand each other.

However, these conflicts can get bigger, uglier and last for days for no apparent reason. Have you ever found yourself arguing over something as silly as 'why you didn't say thank you when he gave you a soda'? And then it just goes on to an actual fight about why you never show affection, which ends up with neither speaking for hours and going to bed angry.

Well, there are a few tricks to preventing these issues and learning to 'fight right'. I didn't come up with them myself, they're things I have learned through books and experience (both personal and professional), but they have all blended together so I'm sorry I'm not including references for this one! 

Part 1. Stay on topic

If you get upset because your partner didn't take out the trash, it doesn't matter if he never does it; what matters is that he didn't do it this one time and that is the one thing you can handle at the moment. Most couples generalize issues making them way too big to be solved with one peaceful discussion. It's like when you want to improve your house and you look at all the little details that need attention; normally, you get overwhelmed, the amount of work seems endless and you end up irritable, stressed and blocked out. When you tackle one issue at a time, things are much simpler and manageable. 

The dialogue at the beginning of this post is a good example of that. Another way that can go wrong is:

A: "You know, it bothered me that you just chose that show and didn't ask me if I wanted to see it."

B: "Well, you never tell me what you want to watch and when I ask you you always say 'whatever'."

Which would trigger another endless conflict resulting in more drama than the new season of Smash. If both parts stay on topic, it's easier to address the one thing that is causing conflict at the time.

These things might not seem to 'matter' much, but in the long run it makes a huge difference in how a couple can resolve a conflict. 

In the next few weeks, I plan to post more tips on how to improve your 'fighting' skills... Or rather, ways to solve conflicts without visualizing painful ways you could punish your partner for not agreeing with you.

Affection Currency - A short story

Matt went back home, opened the box, threw the instruction booklet away (who needs instructions nowadays? Computers are practically sentient!, he said to himself) and immediately plugged his new toy into his personal computer. Many times in the past, he had been accused of being too 'indifferent' or lacking empathy with his friends and family, when the truth was that Matt was just emotionally clumsy; however much he tried, he was not able to identify when people felt like he was giving 'too little' until it was 'too late'. Matt hoped this new gadget would help him improve that - or, better yet, correct it.

Matt felt excited about his new acquisition, he had finally been able to afford it after a long time saving up. The big tech companies had struck gold. Most people have a hard time with concepts that are too abstract and tend to misread things like 'emotions'; therefore, scientists came up with a smartphone-like device which converts them into more concrete concepts - the Affection Currency. All you have to do is link it to your Global Online Profile and this little gadget will access all your past and present relationships, reactions and interactions, creating simple graphs which can help you better understand your behavior, tendencies and areas of improvement. But, wait! There's more! This machine will keep track of your current relationships and give you feedback using 'Affection Dollars'; divided in two categories, Affection Dollars allow you to know how much energy you're investing in a relationship and how much you're actually getting back! Red Affection Dollars (Rad's) are those you receive from others and Black Affection Dollars (Bad's) are the ones you give... So, evidently, while technology seemed to be making huge leaps, marketing strategies were just as cheesy as before.

Still, nothing is ever as good as it seems. When committing to a formal, romantic relationship with someone, those two (or however many) people are required to register their new status on their devices; doing so will deactivate that specific relationship and none of the people involved in it will be able to see their Affection Dollar Flow.

Why is this? Well, it was discovered through very little (and mostly unnecessary) research that being able to track 'how much someone loved you' made a relationship too much like business and was not good for the human psyche. Also, it would probably have ended up in companies selling products with 'Affection Dollar' equivalents.

Our hero was happy with his purchase nevertheless.

The next morning, the device was up and running. Matt went through his history giddy with excitement, like a child running towards the swings on a sunny day... And it hurt as much as if he had tripped and smashed his head into the ground when he saw the screen. He realized that most of his relationships would start out red and end up black, which was not a bad thing itself when balanced, but it was definitely a tendency. "Does this mean that people start by caring about me and end up going away with just me caring for them?", Matt wondered out loud, a bit astonished. He knew he wasn't the best at showing affection but this was a little too extreme. Come to think of it, I haven't seen many of these people in a long time..., he thought as we was going through the list.

A couple of hours later, Matt was downright depressed. He had not found one relationship which seemed even remotely balanced (and no, his mother didn't count). He sat down in his living room, looking at his dog who, according to his gadget, was an emotional genius (the cat was in the other room). That was when Matt had a stroke... 

Of genius! He had been seeing this younger guy who he really liked. He had meant to ask him to make it official for some time now but had always been wary of the age difference. Or so he claimed, but it was really the fact that this guy was 'too happy'. What does that even mean, Matt? Too happy? Maybe it's just that you are too unhappy!, he heard his friends' voices in his head. "Yeah!", he said to his dog, "I'll tweak this gadget so I can see our relationship even after we're formal and registered, and then I will use it to make sure that I am giving enough!". 

Part 2 coming soon...

The Dream - A Short Story

Arael stared at his dream in the glass box.

He did this every morning as soon as he woke up and every night before going to sleep.

It seemed a tiny thing; however intense, it was still a small light floating in space, like a firefly, wandering in its translucent container. 

He had decided it was best to keep it locked away, lest it was hurt, broken or lost. He tried to take it out a few times, shyly show it to those he held dear... But glass is a fragile material. Too hard to keep clean, too hard to keep away from harm. As soon as people touched it, there would be smudges on the walls of the box. Arael would suffer and sweat from anxiety as other hands handled his most precious possession. No one seemed to be careful enough in his eyes.

Still, try as he might, he couldn't help but notice his dream was not growing. Its twinkle, persistent, constant but never changing.

One day, in the school where he taught, he saw a child playing with a light quite similar to his, though way to carelessly for his taste. 

"Aren't you afraid it'll break?", he asked the little boy.

"Why would it break?", the boy replied with big innocent eyes.

"Well, it could. That's why I keep mine in a box like this", he said as he showed the boy the little glass container.

The boy giggled and said, "Mister, you shouldn't play with glass boxes. Mommy says they break too easily!"

"Well, this is my most precious dream. It's not to play with", Arael explained, feeling a little exasperated.

"Then, what is it for?", the boy asked.

Arael was left without words. What was his dream for? If all he could do with it was look at it and fret over its safety?

On his way back home, he realized that some people were being followed by little star-like creatures. They seemed alive and full of energy. 

"Excuse me, sir," he told one of them, "what is that on your shoulder?"

"This? It's my dream!", the man responded cheerfully.

"It's really nice... I keep mine in a box, though... So, it doesn't... Break...", Arael trailed off, suddenly feeling too silly.

"Break? Funny. Mine keeps me from breaking!", the man said laughing, "It's my most precious dream. It's too strong to be broken by anybody but me".

Arael was bewildered. He looked at his glass box. Glass was fragile. Glass could be broken with little effort. None but he could keep its contents constrained. None but he could break it.

Not all bears play with dolls...

"I knew my son was gay when he was like four years old...", said a woman on the radio the other day. This had me thinking, how could you possibly know that? Did he say he liked another boy? Or perhaps she caught him kissing another boy... Well, soon after she explained she 'knew' since he liked playing with dolls instead of trucks and other toys. After hearing this, I remembered coming out to one of my friends many years ago; getting over the initial shock, he looked at me and said "just don't let me see you wearing dresses and stuff, okay?". 

Both assumptions are based in the fact that gender stereotypes are fixed in people's minds and are considered so 'natural', that there is no way they could be any different. For instance, it is 

obvious' to most people that boys play with trucks, have rough games and get dirty; conversely, girls play with dolls, are delicate and cry when they get muddy. 

This seemingly harmless way of thinking has consequences that go a lot farther than just the playground, it goes on to making it seem unnatural and inconceivable that either sex can get interested in the other's socially accepted areas.

In that case, I believe that we, homosexuals, get a chance that heterosexuals don't: we question the values set for us and actually need to go on a journey to discover who we are and what we like. Since our basic emotions are already out of the ordinary, breaking some other rules isn't much trouble for us. In other words, we are pushed to break the barriers of gender. 

We allow ourselves to enjoy both sides of the coin, we can be rough and delicate, we can drink a shot of really strong tequila or sip a fruity drink. And yet, this is not and intrinsic quality of homosexuals. It is not like being gay automatically gives you that ability, it is just something we learn.

In the end, these are all social constructs that we acquire and adapt to as we grow up and develop in our environment. None of them can be considered 'unnatural' since they are all dependent on where we are.

So, while a boy who plays with dolls may be gay, it doesn't mean that it's a fact. It just means that he is a kid who is exploring his world and his own emotions and interests, beyond the limitations of a gender stereotype which he is not yet controlled by. 

To conclude this post, I would like to describe a project a group of students did a few years ago, when I was still teaching at University level:

The task was to break a 'gender rule' in any way they wanted, document it and present it to the rest of the class. The instructions were vague on purpose in order to not interfere with their own creative process. A group formed by three girls and two boys asked if they could do a play, to which I agreed. 

The first act showed a mother with her two children, a boy and a girl; they were having breakfast and the kids were fighting and being annoying. At one point, the mother got fed up with them and sent them to their room, 'but as punishment, you will go to the other one's bedroom and stay there until I say it's okay to come out!" she yelled. The children go reluctantly. The girl goes into the boy's room and starts crying, saying it's too dirty, too messy and dark; however, soon after she comes across an action figure, a G.I. Joe type toy, and starts playing with it. At the same time, the boy is in the girl's room complaining that it's all pink and fluffy, when he finds two Barbie dolls on the floor and start playing with it as well. When the mother sees this, she is scandalized by it and quickly puts the children in their respective rooms, without realizing that each had taken the toy they had been playing with. 

This act ends with them going to sleep holding on to their 'new' toy, happy that they had the chance to find it. But it doesn't end there. 

For the second act, the children dream that each is talking to the doll. The barbies are telling the boy he's a handsome little fellow and if he'd like to stay with them; the girl's G.I. Joe says he will protect her since she is so beautiful.

In the end, the children wake up as adults, the boy's Barbie dolls have turned into real life girls and the girl's action figure is a muscular handsome man. 

They were trying to show the incongruence of such stereotypes and how it all depends on how people interpret these actions. 

It made me think about when I was a boy and used to play with action figures... I loved taking their shirts off and looking at their muscular bodies! 

Hunting for friends - first woofs.

Tonight my partner and I decided to venture out into the gay life... Or at least what little of it there is here in Connecticut! We attended a get together at the Real Art Ways hoping to network, meet some people and, in short, have a good time.

It was a pretty good crowd - quite diverse. The thing is, though, most people seemed to know each other already... Which made it kind of hard to break into the group, and neither my partner nor I are especially good at making new friends in a group of strangers. 

Ultimately, he was able to start a conversation with a guy who happened to be talking about a gay men's chorus in Hartford, making use of the fact that I adore singing and have been looking for a chance to join such a group for a while. This proved a good way to meet at least one person in the crowd... Still, I couldn't help but wonder, how do people network and meet people in this kind of group?

The best I could find doing a quick search on Google was this little article:

http://www.inc.com/patricia-fletcher/awkward-to-awesome-five-networking-tips.html

Which is all good and useful advice... Except it misses the key element. I consider myself pretty good at keeping a conversation going, I think I am able to identify what a person might be interested in talking about and all that... However, what I do NOT know is how to start the conversation. How do you break into a group that is already engaged in conversation? That's when I found this other little article (which is, by the way, a lot more useful):

http://voices.yahoo.com/six-tips-making-conversation-strangers-249209.html

I was particularly interested in the 'picturing a friend' part. In a way, I think it helps to think of the potential of a person... I mean, I did it with people I dated; in fact, I always think "would I introduce this person to my friends/family ever?". Now, with friends it's less clear, but I guess it would help if I can picture myself sharing things with that person. It's not such a clear cut, though... But it's a start, I think!

2 weeks later

It has been two weeks since I moved to Connecticut; somehow, it feels as if it's been longer than that. I guess being a city wolf all my life, the change to a small town where sidewalks are definitely not a priority for the government is making an impression on me.

One of the things that I have noticed in the short time I've been here is how difficult it is to meet people. I mean, never mind the fact that gay-life is practically non-existent here, there are very few cafes and such places where one might casually meet with friends... Or, at least, I haven't found many. 

On the other hand, we seem to be living in an area that kind of makes me think of a combination between Desperate Housewives and a small town, non-pornographic Queer As Folk. In a dinner we had with the neighbours we found out there are actually many gay couples living in the area... It's just very unlike anything I'm used to.

In Mexico, I wasn't a party animal, going to clubs, meeting guys and dancing my young days away; in fact, most of my 'partying' consisted in getting together with a group of friends at their or my apartment to talk, eat, drink and just be silly. In a way, I see how it could be this way here rather easily... The thing is, I guess, breaking into the group. 

How does one infiltrate into a group without relying on classic meeting places like bars and clubs? Or more modern alternatives like Bear411, Growlr, Scruff and other pages of the sort? And, mostly, the problem I have with websites like those is that people aren't really looking to meet others for friendship. They may claim that they are but, seriously, the first thing you see in a profile is NOT their interests and description, but their picture - let's face it, how many people have we met on there because they were interesting without really considering their appearance?

I have yet to figure this out... It's tough being new in a place like this but I'm sure I'll meet people eventually! I can't wait to have dinner parties and just get-togethers with people in the apartment!